Tuesday, May 26, 2009


There’s a branch
Of a tree
That I see
From my window

A thick pencil mark
Across a tiny rectangle
Of sky

And on it sits a bird
Sometimes a crow
Black and sinister
Sometimes a pigeon

The pigeon is fat
Probably the only fat bird
On the estate
With its own private store
Of peanuts

Sometimes I see the pigeon
Sometimes the crow

As I lie in bed
In the morning half awake
Before I open my eyes
I sometimes wonder

Will I see the pigeon
Will I see the crow
Or will the branch be empty?

1 comment:

wastedpapiers said...

and what has become of the cuckoo?
This delightful monster of a bird
Who pushes all the other eggs out of the nest
Just so he can stuff his beak full
Wearing out the daft sparrow parents dwarfed by their enormous pretender.

WV is "combleg" - a kind of sticky cake made of peas.